All posts by Griff

My passion is studying American history leading up to & including the Civil War. I particularly enjoy reading, transcribing & researching primary sources such as letters and diaries.
109th New York Infantry, 1st Battle of Petersburg, Battle of Spotsylvania Court House, Battle of the Crater, Battle of the Wilderness, Battle of Weldon Railroad, Petersburg, Virginia, Siege of Petersburg

1862-4: William H. DeBell to Phebe Ann (Fairchild) DeBell

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The following letter was written William (“Bill”) H. Debell (1844-1864) who accepted a $70 bounty and enlisted when he was 18 as a private in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He was the son of Daniel W. DeBell (1810-1881)—sometimes spelled Dibble—and Phebe Ann Fairchild (1814-1910) of Danby, Tompkins county, New York. Bill was not close to his father. His father and mother separated in January 1858 leaving Phebe without property and offered no further support to his wife and the four children (including Bill) who were left in the household. In the 1850 census, the DeBell family was enumerated in Shandaken, Ulster county, New York, where Bill’s father worked as a millwright. At that time, there seven children in the family ranging in age from 1 to 16.

(courtesy Don Andrew Collection)

Company A of the 109th New York Infantry was primarily recruited from the towns of Newfield, Caroline, and Danby in Tompkins County, New York. Bill took his place in the ranks with other young men from Tompkins county, many of whom were his friends from Danby. The Regiment began its assignment during the first week of September, 1862.  A few days later several companies were detached to garrison Laurel, MD (about 8 miles SE of Annapolis Junction) to guard the main railroad junctions located there. The 109th remained at this assignment but was reassigned in October 1862 to the 22nd Army Corps as railroad guards and part of the 22nd’s overall defense of the Capital at Washington, DC against the threat of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia’s presumed invasion. The invasion never came. Their job was tedious and boring and they saw no military action of any kind.  

The 109th did its duty from September 1862, the remainder of 1862, all of 1863 and through the end of March 1864.  Then in April, 1864 the 109th was ordered to join the 9th Army Corps then assembling at Annapolis, MD in preparation for action against General Lee at Petersburg, VA.  The 109th Regiment became part of Hartranft’s battle-tried 1st Brigade, Wilcox’s 3rd Division, 9th Army Corps, Army of the Potomac.  The 9th Corps left Annapolis on 23 April, 1864 headed for the crossing at the Rapidan arriving there on the 4th of May, 1864. The next morning, 5 May, 1864, the 109th, after crossing the Rapidan as one of the lead units, were immediately fully engaged with the enemy in the Battle of the Wilderness.  Though they had been in the service 1 year, 8 months, and 9 days since they organized in the late summer of 1862 at Binghamton, New York, it was their first taste of battle.

Bill would go on to fight in eight major pitched battles with the 109th New York until he was finally cut down in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864. there are seven letters presented here by Bill DeBell and two by William A. Hance, a comrade in Co. A who wrote letters to Bill’s family informing them and providing some details of Bill’s death.

These letters are from the personal collection of Don Andrew who sent them to me for transcription and publication on Spared & Shared by express consent.

Those interested in the 109th New York may find any of the following published on Spared & Shared equally good reading:

George W. Roe, Co. A, 109th New York (3 Letters)
James M. Williams, Co. E, 109th New York (1 Letter)
Amos Avery, Co. F, 109th New York (1 Letter)
Samuel John Vail, Co. F, 109th New York (1 Letter)
John H. Warner, Co. G, 109th New York (1 Letter)
Almon W. Gould, Co. H, 109th New York (1 Letter)
Uriah Wright Stratton, Co. H, 109th New York (1 Letter)

Letter 1

Annapolis Junction, Maryland
September 6th 1862

Dear Ma,

It is with mingled emotions of joy that I now write you. I am well at present and hope these few lines will find you the same. Ma, I am away down South among the rebels. We left Binghamton last Sauturday morning and arrived at this Junction on Monday noon. Our camp is situated in a nice place. It is in a ten-acre lot, all level land. We are situated in a little valley all surrounded with woods. The railroad runs right in front of our camp. There are several of the rebels around through the woods. Two of them were caught today and put in the guard house. I don’t know what they will do with them.

Monday morning, 8 o’clock a.m. Ma, you must excuse me for not finishing this before for there is so much excitement here at present that it is hard for me to get my thoughts together but I will try and finish. Our regiment is all broke up. Five of our companies is down to Washington guarding a railroad bridge and David and myself and ten others is about a mile from camp guarding a switch. We have caught several prisoners—[Union] deserters mostly. Last night we caught a rebel spy. We took him up to the guard house. I think it will be pretty hard on him. I suppose you have heard that Old [Stonewall] Jackson and forty thousand troops have crossed the Potomac. We expect they will attack us before long. This is one of their spies.

I like a soldier’s life very well so far but I would like to see home once more and tell Mary, Carrie, and Hattie that I would like to see them all very much but I cannot yet a spell. The best I can do is to send you all my love and a kiss. Give Annie my love too. I have received all of my pay and have lent David 30 of it and have kept the rest to use. He said he would pay me as son as he got his month’s pay. Did I do right, Ma? I want you to send me all of your pictures. I have got Mary’s. No more at present so goodbye from your own son, — Will H. DeBell

Direct to Annapolis Junction, Maryland
Co. A, 109th Regt. N. Y. State Volunteers in care of B. R. McAllaster.
Write as soon as you get this.

Letter 2

[Not transcribed. Words to Just Before the Battle, Mother.]

Letter 3

[Editor’s Note: In this 16 page letter to his mother of 17 May, 1864, Bill describes seeing the elephant for the first time.]

Spotsylvania Court House, Va.
May 17th 1864

Dear Ma,

Once more I am seated to write to you although I may never get the letter finished for I am on picket within 20 rods [@ 100 yards] of the enemy and they are firing at us every moment. There are three of us on a post and we have a little breastwork thrown up before us about two feet high. I am sitting close down behind it writing on my cartridge box & every moment a bullet whistles over my head. I wrote you a letter when we was at Warrington Junction. Little did I think then that we was coming so soon to the front but we left there the day after I wrote to you and never stopped until we arrived at Wilderness Church. We was three days a marching it. We crossed the Rapidan in the afternoon & was marched about 5 miles & put on picket—

Dear Ma, just as I wrote the word picket, one of the men that was on post with me was shot through both thighs [?]. Poor fellow. I sent to the regiment and some of his company came and got him.

—and kept on all night and about 5 o’clock in the morning we fell in and was marched about 3 miles without any breakfast to the battlefield. Oh! I cannot tell my feelings when we was marched up in front of the Rebel batteries, the shell a flying. but we did not flinch and only 8 of us men was wounded, none killed.

About noon we fell in [and] marched off to the left. As we was marching by the left flank, the rebels poured a whole volley into us that confused and excited us and we fronted and fired on them and we fought there all the afternoon and only three got wounded out of our company, none killed. We made four charges and drove the enemy out of their rifle pits and captured about 5 prisoners. Our firing ceased about dark and we built breastworks and lay in them two or three days and held our position. Then one night the rebels set up a terrible hootin’ and hollerin’ and we thought they was agoing to charge on us but it was [only] to blind a movement. They moved off to our right so that night about 2 o’clock we was ordered to fall in and was marched until daylight and made a halt for breakfast after which we took up the line of march again & marched until about 4 p.m. and made a halt and drew 5 days rations.

Stayed there until 5 in the morning and marched again to this place & was double quicked up a long hill through shot and shell to the very front, formed in line, and drove the enemy back. Then we throwed up breastworks with our bayonets and plates & lay there two or three days, the enemy making several desperate attacks to break our line but did not.

On May 11th, they made their last attempt at that point and here is memoranda I kept from that time. “May 11th, 6 p.m. The enemy commenced shelling us in our rifle pits and their pickets advanced on us at the same time so we sent out 100 men out of our regiment as skirmishers and they advanced and drove them back a ways. Then our batteries opened on them and soon silenced theirs. Then we was ordered to advance out of our pits so the whole Brigade marched over and cautiously approached them. We—the 109th—had went only a short distance when we was ordered to support the 8th Michigan Regiment. We was marched by the right face, then left flank and formed in about 50 rods behind them and lay down flat. The bullets flew very thick but there was but a few wounded. One poor fellow from the 8th Michigan got his leg shot off.

Well, we lay in that position about an hour. Then we was ordered to form a junction with the breastworks we had just left, so the Brigade formed in line and marched directly southeast until we came to a piece of woods. Then we changed direction to the right and marched southwest about a mile and fronted, then lay down & watched until morning. At daylight we was ordered to build breastworks so we went at them and have them done and are waiting for the attack.

It is Friday, 13th. I left off writing the 11th while in the above named breastworks. Well, we had no attack that day. About 3 o’clock we was ordered to fall in. We did so and was marched to the rear—that is, off the field. Then it commenced raining very hard. Well, we was marched down in an open field and those that had tents put them up and those that did not had to take the rain. Well we had just got our suppers a cooking and the order came to fall in double quick. We did so and was marched back about halfway to the field and halted and we stood there in the rain and mud about an hour (Ma, could you but have known my thoughts while standing there, cold and wet. Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home!) Then the order came to about face and was marched back where we started from and camped down. Our things was all wet and it was quite cold.

Well [Daniel] Mc[Pherson] & G[eorge] Roe & me went off and got a couple of rods of rails apiece and built a large fire and we spread our rubber blankets and lay down. (We had nothing to put over us for we threw everything away in the first battle at Wilderness Church.) We all being very tired, soon fell asleep and slept sound until 2 o’clock. Then we was woke up and packed our things and marched up here where I now sit and was formed in line of battle but was held in reserve until noon. Then we was ordered to charge on a Rebel battery and we marched up in the edge of the woods andjust as we got there, they opened upon [us] with shot and shell and our men fell like grass before a scythe. But on we went, but did not get the battery. We had to fall back and when we got out of the woods, all we could count out of 400 was 150. We was cut bad, I tell you. General Burnside said it was the boldest charge that he ever saw made. He said he would remember us. We are called a brave regiment. Several other regiments broke and run but ours stood right up to the mark.

Well, after we came back, we went at it and built breastworks—(in the morning it commenced raining and rained very hard all day)—so that we could hold our position. Well we got them done and got in them, mud up to our knees, but we had to lie down and we lay there all night and are here yet and this is the 3rd day.

May 15th—Well here we are yet and still it rains and the mud. Last night the enemy’s pickets bothered us all night and it was so cold and it rained so hard that it was very uncomfortable. It is morning now and we are still in the mud and rain but there is some very encouraging news and it [illegible]…Colonel told us that we had taken 8,000 prisoners and 40 pieces of artillery and also Richmond was in our possession. I hope it is so. I just heard from our chaplain that there was two Corps down to the rear that was agoing to relieve us and I must say I hope they will for this is the tenth day we have been out to the very front of the battle. I never heard of such a thing before—keeping men out on the front so long without a relief. Our men are getting very tired and wore out (tell Sarh she would not know the 109th if she should see it now. The regiment looks when it’s all together about like a good company).

It is Sunday the 15th. We are still in the pit and we begin to think we are agoing to stay in them for all being relieved. The enemy was very quiet in our front last night, but on our left they had a heavy battle. Yesterday afternoon the Johnnies charged on one of our batteries & they opened on them with 16 pieces and cut them full as bad as they did us the 12th. The Rebel sharpshooters troubles us very much for every time one of us raises our heads or stirs around, they shoot at us too and there was two men from some other regiment got killed yesterday, the 12th, and one today. Every man that goes out has to go on his hands and knees or go half double. The officers is the main thing they are after.

May 16th. Still in the entrenchments. The sharpshooters trouble us yet but they do not advance. We sent out a heavy line of skirmishers today so as to advance our pickets. Done t without much trouble. Last night our Corps fetched us up a kettle of beef stew. It was good, I tell you, for we was all very hungry.

May 18th. There is my memoranda from the 11th to 17th. I am back in with the company. I was relieved last night about six o’clock from picket. Came here and George Roe 1 had my supper ready for me. I eat it and we spread our rubber [blankets] and lay down. Slept until morning when we was woke up for our coffee. After we drank that and eat our crackers, we was startled by the rattle of musketry on our front. We jumped to our places, sat there a spell, and found it was nothing but the pickets. But about half an hour and our batteries opened, the enemy’s replied, and they kept up all the forenoon. It has ceased now but expect every moment when they will open again but it is hopeful that they will keep still for them shells are very disagreeable—especially when they come so close that the wind of one will blow your hat off as one did me the 12th in that battle. I have always heard say it was an awful feeling to go into battle but never thought it was such a feeling as it really is. I can’t begin to tell nor explain but after you have been in a little while, you don’t mind it so much.

There is 230 killed, wounded and missing in the battle, 21 out of our company. Namely: May 6th, wounded, John Conners in the arm; Peter Swint [in the] leg, and William Smith [in the] hand. May 12th, wounded, Henry Beardsley [in the] leg. John Sumers [in the] hip, Colins Causdale [in the] hand, Alfred Earsley [in the] hand, Sturgis Williams [in the] hand, Dwight Ostrander [in the] leg, Philander Evans [in the] leg, Horace Todd [on the] arm, Charles Truesdell [in the] arm, Lewnis Purdy [in the] leg. Killed, John [G.] Nichols, Amos Barber, Henry Person, Abram Scales, George Pierson, William Lours. Missing, Harrison Little. These are all from our company.

After we fought the last battle, the Capt. Mc[Allister] was taken sick and went to Fredericksburg to the hospital. Col. [Benjamin F.] Tracy has resigned. The Lt. Colonel [Isaac S. Catlin] takes his place.

Ma, just imagine you are looking on a side hill and along the edge of a piece of woods along which you see a large ditch dug (or first say it has been raining a week very hard) with the dust all thrown out on one side making a bank high enough so that a man can stand on his feet and look over and occasionally you will see a small piece of [ ] stuck up. Well down in this pit or ditch you will see all along against the bank a row of guns with bayonets on and down in the bottom you will see men dying in all shapes in the mind. In imaging this, you will see the 109th and about the center of the pit you will see one with a small piece of board on his knee with pencil & paper writing. You may guess who it is. This paper I picked up in the battlefield. Some of the boys said that they saw David go through Chancellorsville the other day. You will, perhaps, know more about it than I would for I presume you hear from him and I don’t. I hope he has not been in this last battle for there was a large number of cavalry captured and poor Franky might have been one of them.

Ma, I will have to bring this to a close for the muskets begin to rattle and I am afraid I cannot send it at all. Goodbye. Write soon. — Will H. DeBell

Goodbye all until you hear from me again. Write soon.

1 George Roe (1831-1864) served with Bill DeBell in Co. A, 109th New York. They were both from Danby in Tompkins county, New York. Three of his letters were published on Spared & Shared in April 2025 (see 1863: George W. Roe to Sarah Adeline (McPherson) Roe.) In his letter of 9 September 1863 written from Annapolis, George mentions William DeBell as follows: “Reuben Youngs got his face severely burned this afternoon. It happened in this way. William DeBell—one of our tent mates—got a cannon cartridge while on patrol down to Savage & brought it to camp & hung it up in the tent. While he was out, Harrison [Tompkins] and Reuben thought they would come a joke on Bill so Rube took the powder & some matches & went out back to explode it. He placed a piece of paper on the powder & placed fire at the other end. He thought it was not going & so he moved the paper so that the wind would blow it towards the powder [and] at that instant, sparks blew into the powder & it exploded & burned his face quite badly. I think, however, he will get along without much trouble as it is not burned very deep.”

Letter 4

Near Petersburg, Virginia
June 20, 1864

Dear Ma,

Again I am seated to write a few lines to you. Since I last wrote to you, we have [illegible due to crease in paper] marching and fighting. The night of the same day I wrote my last letter, we evacuated our position & started we knew not where. We started as soon as it was dark & marched all night and all day, stopping just long enough to make a little [illegible due to crease in paper]…all we had to eat was corn & coffee and when we got to the James River we made a half of one day & drew rations and started again just night and they marched us all night and next day until about 3 o’clock when we halted and made a little coffee.

Then we was marched through a piece of woods and formed in line (the rebs had made a stand), joining on the 2nd Corps line, and at 5 o’clock we advanced or rather charged on their works. The order came “Fix bayonets, charge double quick” made, we started with a loud yell through one of the heaviest fires I ever was in, the enemy pouring the grape and canister in us from three sides from a line of forts that was built behind their breastworks. But on we went and took them all—breastworks, forts, cannon, horses and part of the men. Well we charged and fought all night and next day and next night until about 12 o’clock when we was relieved and came to this place where I now sit. It is what we call the rear.

There are three lines of battle in our front. We are resting. When we came out of the last charge, all the guns our regiment could stack was 23. A good many straggled but all we can stack now is [ ]. We was cut up very bad. We are expecting every moment when we will have to go in again. The 6th Corps is fighting now very hard on our right. There is a line of works in our front that has got to be taken and it is the opinion of most all our division that we will have to make the charge but I hope not for I don’t like these charges.

We are in sight of Petersburg now and if we have as good luck as we have had, it will soon be ours. We have got our batteries in a good position and I think they will do good execution.

Dear me, the mail carrier has just come after the mail so I will have to close hoping and praying that war will soon close & I will be permitted to return to you again. May God save, bless and protect you all. From your affectionate son. — Will H. DeBell

There has two mails come in and I have received no letter. Write often. My love to you all.

P. S. Our batteries is now throwing shells into Petersburg. We are in sight of there. We have got the rebs in such a position so that they cannot use their batteries unless they sink them in the ground so that nothing is above ground but the muzzle.

Letter 5

On picket near Petersburg, Va.
June 28, 1864

Dear Ma,

Again I am seated to write you a few lines to inform you that I am still alive and well and hope this will find you all the same. I have written two letters to you since I have received any. Our mail comes in regular every day & I can’t imagine why I don’t get them. I can’t think but what you have written but maybe I will get one tomorrow so I will wait patiently.

I came on picket night before last & have been on nearly 48 hours. I was to be relieved last night but the whole regiment came out on the picket line to stay 48 hours so I had to stay with them so that will keep me on 84 hours. I was on the advance line yesterday which is within a stones throw of the reb’s main line. They have got a very strong line. Every little ways they have a piece of artillery planted. Both armies are building and strengthening their works. Our men are preparing to siege them and I hardly think there will be much infantry fighting unless they attack our lines and that is just what we want so we don’t feel much alarmed.

The rebs have got two large forts in sight of us & our men are digging under one of them to blow it up. They are half way now and I think in the course of a week, they will lift it with powder. Our armies has got an awful strong position here. Artillery siege pieces & mortars—there is no end to them. We all expect a hard time when they commence the siege. The rebs are getting the range of us with their mortars now. Every once in a while a large fifty to a hundred pound shell will come over in our lines and burst.

In the 2nd Corps joining on our corps there is brass band playing “When this Cruel War is Over.” Oh it does sound splendid. The sun is down and it is cool & pleasant. All is quiet except the picket firing. Oh, if it was only in time of peace and I was sitting in the door of our house, just had my supper, and all the work done, oh how we could enjoy ourselves. Oh, then if I could hear a band play, I could enjoy it. But here it sounds so lonely and brings afresh all the ties of home. Sometimes when I am sitting all alone and get to thinking of my loves ones at home, then the thought of where I am comes back again. Well I won’t try to tell the feeling that comes over me for a few moments. Then after that, it will be three or four days, perhaps a week, before I think of it again. But enough of this.

I expect we will have a lively time tonight with the mortars from both sides for our men has got ever so many of them (mortars) planted and I think they will open them as soon as it is dark & it is so near that now I will have to stop writing until tomorrow. So good night.

Wednesday, June 29th & 4 p.m. Again I am seated. I have just had a good nap and finished a part of a can of beans that I had left from my dinner and I feel some better. It was not as I expected last night—about the shelling. All was quiet except the pickets. The Rebs kept up a steady fire all night which made it very disagreeable for their bullets come fairly closae—especially to where I lay. I have got a little post about ten feet from the company all alone by myself. It would be very pleasant if it was not for them (the bullets). It is a little hole dug in the ground about two feet deep and long enough to lie down in with the dirt all thrown upon one side for a breastwork. Then up on the top of that, I have a heavy log laid with holes under to look through. Then I have my piece of tent & rubber blanket put together for a shelter or shade and my wool blanket under me.

Our regiment grows smaller and smaller as the time passes on. Most every day, one or more of our men is killed. Last Saturday a man in our company by the name og John Cortright [of Owego] was killed and one in Co. K day before yesterday by the name of Edward [Edwin] Wilber [of Owego] and another wounded. I did not hear his name. And today one of Co. F was shot through the right eye and was killed instantly. Take our sick and all together our regiment won’t number over 400 and when we came in the field, it was 1015 strong so you can see that we have been cut up pretty bad.

Our men has just sent mortars and the rebs is replying but the shells from both sides goes over us. Well Ma, it is getting late and I will have to close for we are to be relieved as soon as it is dark and I will have to get my supper and pack up my things. I wish you all could take supper with me tonight. I am going to have fried pork, fried hard tack, ad coffee. But I think I had rather take supper with you but I hope you will eat just as though I was there & I will try and eat just as though you was here. Do all of you write to me often. I bid you all an affectionate goodbye until you hear from me again. I remain your affectionate son, — Will H. DeBell

Washington D. C.
Co. A, 109th N. Y. S. V.
1st Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th Army Corps

P. S. I give my love to all the girls and tell them to write. It is quite lonesome here in the company for me now for all of my old tent mates is away. George is sick, off to the hospital. Also [William] H. Forsyth and D[aniel] McPherson is Co. cook. He only comes to the company once in a while.

Letter 6

Still on the Front Line near Petersburg, Va.
July 3rd 1864

Dear Ma,

Again I am seated to write to you. I received your long looked for letter yesterday and was very glad to hear from you and hear you was well. I am well and doing as well as can be expected. It is all quiet in our front but on the right and left, there is some fighting every day. But perhaps you hear of the news as quick or quicker than we do. I hear it rumored that the siege is to commence tomorrow but we can’t tell much about it. I hardly know how to commence or finish this unless I commence back and give you the details of my diary from the time we left Cold Harbor.

Sunday, June 12th. Still on duty as supporting picket of the fort. There is great excitement today and it is said the 9th Corps evacuates their position.

13th—As I expected, last night as soon as darkness covered our movements, moved out in a southern direction. Marched all night.

14th—Today crossed the Chickahominy and at night found ourselves near the James River where we encamped for the night.

15th—Today are lying where we camped last night, resting out. D[aniel] H. McPherson and me have just been down to the river bathing. Swam to the island, Then drew 4 days rations—coffee, pork, hard tack.

16th—Last night was routed out just dark, crossed the [James] River on pontoons, traveled all night and all day today—a forced march. Have reached the rebs’ works near Petersburg & formed in line of battle.

Friday, 17th—It will never be forgotten by the 9th A. C. Fought all day and charged on the Rebs four times and lost nearly all the remainder of the regiment. After the fight, we had only 37 men to stack arms.

18th—Still fighting and gradually gaining ground although it costs heavy and blood and life. Petersburg is plain to be seen from the parts we took from the Johnnies.

19th—Have been lying in the woods facing the enemy. No fighting in our corps today except the pickets.

20th—Last night charged across the railroad and took the heights beyond but again fell back into the woods where we now are.

21st—Today have had general inspection and every regiment in our Brigade has orders to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.

22nd—Moved some distance to the right last night but still on the same line of works.

23rd—We are still holding our position. I was on picket yesterday and was relieved last night. All quiet along the lines. Under marching orders.

24th—Last night were relieved by the 10th Corps and moved some distance to the left. We are next to the front line and are supported by our Colored Division.

25th—Started constructing a new line of works or rather pits. The enemy’s sharpshooters annoy us incessantly.

26th—This morning a man in our company by the name of John Cortright 1 was shot on picket line and died in two hours. I helped carry him off the picket line.

27th—Today our Colored Division has been busy filling bags with sand. They are to be used for breastworks.

1 John Cortright (1816-1864) was a 40 year-old farmer from Owego, Tioga county, New York, when he enlisted in December 1863 in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry.

Letter 7

Near Petersburg, Virginia
August 10th 1864

Dear Sister,

I am seated in a bomb proof to write you a few lines as it is raining and it is very lonesome here on the picket line. We came here last Saturday night and expect to stay until next Saturday night. We are all in great fear here on the line for the rebs is undermining us as we did them. Our men are countermining as fast as they can but the rebs has several days the start of us and we are all afraid they will blow us up before we can stop them. But we have got stay and run our chances the same as in battle.

I presume you have read in the papers before this time about the undermining of the reb fort. Well our regiment was on the picket line at the time it was hoisted (the same line we are on now). Well the night before is was hoisted, as I said before, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon, we had orders to be ready to move at a moments notice and we supposed we was agoing to be relieved for we had been on the line 15 days. Well we got ready and sat around until dark and the expected relief did not come. Some of the boys fell asleep and some sat talking and wondering why the relief did not come. I was numbered with the sleepers.

Well, about 11 o’clock p.m., I was woke up and ordered to report to Headquarters. I did so and found a squad there and we was sent to Brigade Headquarters after spades and picks. Well then I began to smell the rat (I knew that the fort was all ready to blow up.) Well, we got them (the spades & picks), came back, and distributed them among the companies. Then I lay down and soon fell asleep with my things all on and when I awoke, it was 3 a.m. and there was a line of men formed in our rear in the same pits and we all thought sure they was the long wished for relief. But not so.

The explosion that created the Crater. From a contemporary sketch by Alfred Waud entitled “Before Petersburg at sunrise, July 30th 1864”

We had just got in line when to our astonishment we felt the ground rise up under our feet but we looked over the works and —– oh —— the awfullest sight that ever man beheld was there to be seen. Men’s heads, legs, arms, hands and whole bodies, artillery rails, mortars flying in the air. I took but one look and turned my head. But to see a sight which made another chill run through me, I saw a heavy line of battle moving forward. Then I knew for certain that we had to charge. On they came over our works. They went with a terrible yell (as soon as they got over our works in the line of battle, all the artillery along our line opened) and into the heap of ruins they went. And they had just got there when the rebs recovered from their panic and they opened all along their line.

Then the order [came] to our ears, “Forward 109th!” I looked in the direction the order came from and saw Col. [Isaac] Catlin 1 up on the breastworks swinging his sword, crying out, “Forward Boys!” and over we went. Well, I have been in several battles and I never was under such a heavy fire before. Well, a great many never reached the fort and oh! another such a sight. Men cut in all sorts of pieces and twisted in all shapes, some with their heads sticking out of the dirt, some with a hand and arm out, some with their legs out. It was awful. But we went to work and made good use of the “shubels & picks” in rescuing some of the rebs from being buried alive. Well, we got out several and took a number of others prisoners. Then we rallied on the next line and stood and fought about three hours, the rebs making several desperate charges to retake the line.

Then on came our colored troops with a rush and we thought sure we could walk right into Petersburg and we could [have] had the black buggers stood up to their work, but they was cowards and run and thus we lost our hold. As soon as they run, the General gave orders to retreat. Well, all went back or I say all. They all started back (but a great many never got there) but about 8 hundred, and six of them was our company, myself included. Well we stood there and fought and tried to hold the works but we could not see that very plain for we could see the rebs massing their forces and we knew we would have to all be taken prisoners or run the risk of getting shot in going back to our line. The rebs had a cross fire from both sides on us when we went across there.

Well, we six made up our minds to be taken and we sat down waiting for them to come when I happened to think about the niggers and about Fort Pillow [where] no quarter was shown them there nor their officers and I thought perhaps it would be the same here. So I spoke to the boys about it and they said we must run across the field to our works. Run for life, [indeed]. Well I was to take the lead. I raised up and saw the rebs had started. Then there was no time to be lost so over the lot of the fort I went and dropped down between two dead men and looked across the field towards our line. I could see it plain—about 40 rods [over 200 yards] distance. Two men started from just ahead of me and was shot before they reached the works. Then I was most discouraged but something told me I could reach them in safety. I raised up and looked around me again and could hear the enemy coming and saw some photographs, some of which I sent in my last letter to Ma lying on the ground near me. I picked them up and took one more look across the field and started and thank God, I reached our lines in safety and although I had several close calls, I was not hurt. When I was about halfway across the field, running as fast as I could, a ball came and cut my cup off of my haversack. That was the same as a blow of a whip on a horse. It made me go a little faster.

But I am alright and am sitting here in what we call a bum [bomb] proof to protect us from shells. It is a whole dug in the ground and heavy timbers over and dirt on them, some like a potato hole. Just think you see me sitting on a knapsack writing on a hard tack box, the boys lying around me in all shapes, heads and pints cross ways and every other way.

Well my paper is most gone and I am agoing to close and see if I can find ay place to curl down and sleep. I wouldn’t mind (if I could just as well as not getting in one of your beds to pass the remainder of the night. I bet I could sleep onyour parlor floor but I guess I will get along some way here in my hole. At least I will try it very shortly. Now this is the 2nd letter I have written to you and have none in return…

I like to forgot to say that the other 5 boys got out safe into our lines. If you want me to write again, you must send me some stamps as it is very hard to get them here. Write and tell me all the particulars concerning the fair maids &c. &c. of Ithaca. David & Frank also. I wrote to them some time ago but have received no answer. When you answer this, you must think up enough to full up two sheets at least. Now remember. Well here goes for a sleep so good night. May God protect you all. Goodbye.

1 Isaac Catlin was Promoted to full colonel on July 29, 1864, he led the 109th New York in the Battle of the Crater at Petersburg, Virginia, the next day. During the battle, he was seriously wounded but returned to the field and continued to lead his regiment until being struck a second time. The second wound necessitated the amputation of his right leg. For this action, he was given a brevet promotion to major general on March 13, 1865, and awarded the Medal of Honor several decades later, on January 13, 1899.

Col. Isaac Catlin lost a leg leading the 109th New York Infantry at the Battle of the Crater.

Letter 8

[Editor’s Note: The following letter was written by William A. Hance, the son of John L. Hance and Almira Bruster, who also served in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He enlisted at Danby on 12 August 1862 and mustered out with the company on 5 June 1865. His letter informs Hattie DeBell of the death of her brother Bill, killed in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864 and of his burial on the battlefield.]

Headquarters Ist Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th A. C.
On the Weldon R. R., near Petersburg, Va.,
August 23, 1864

Mrs. DeBell,

Dear Madam, It is with a sad heart I seize upon this moment of spare time to address a few lines to you. I have news to tell of a nature most melancholy. William is dead. He fell in the bloody charge made by the Rebels on the 19th to recover the railroad which was taken from them the day before.

At the time he was struck, he was in advance of the company, supposing we had one line of battle between them and the Rebels. He soon discovered the mistake. Taking off his hat and swinging it around his head, he cried out, “Come on boys, they are Johnnys!” Those were the last words he ever uttered [before] he cruel messenger of death struck him down. Striking his right arm, [the ball] passed through, glanced and entered his side, passing through his lung, killing him instantly. By his death, I have lost a much loved friend and Co. A one of its best and bravest soldiers. We have been separated a great portion of the time since the opening of this bloody campaign but have occasionally met and spoken together of home and friends far away and anticipated the happiness in store for us when this cruel war should end. But alas, he is gone and all our bright hopes with him. And I am left to tell the gloomy intelligence.

William was a good soldier—always to be found at his post, discharging his duty nobly and manfully. His place in the company, as well as in the memory of those who knew him in this life, can never be filled until we have followed him to that same mysterious end. Allow me in behalf of Co. A to tender you our heartfelt sympathies in your bereavement. Having lost two brothers in the same manner, I can sympathize with you. But I suppose I cannot realize a mother’s feelings on such a subject. Asking you to excuse this hastily written sketch, I subscribe myself, respectfully yours, Wm. A. Hance, 1st Brigade Band, 3rd Division.

P. S. I have William’s testament and pocket book which I will forward to you the first opportunity. — W. A. Hance.

Letter 9

[Editor’s Note: The following letter was written by William A. Hance who also served in Co. A, 109th New York Infantry. He enlisted at Danby on 12 August 1862 and mustered out with the company on 5 June 1865. His letter informs Hattie DeBell of the death of her brother Bill, killed in the Battle of Weldon Railroad on 19 August 1864 and of his burial on the battlefield.]

Headquarters, Ist Brigade, 3rd Division, 9th A. C.
Near Petersburg, Va.
September 13, 1864

Miss Hattie,

Having a few moments to spare, the first I have had since the receipt of yours containing inquiries concerning your poor brother, I concluded to devote them in answering them as well as I can. I was out to the regiment the 11th and made inquiries of all I saw that I thought would know anything of him. All I could learn was that another regiment were detailed to bury the dead, but that Will was buried by our pioneers & who they were, I could not find out. There are but few of the boys left and nearly all of my acquaintances are either dead or wounded or sick. I shall try and find where his grave is. I do not know whether the Rebels or our men hold the ground for since the battle, things have changed. Our lines have been formed on the most advantageous ground and our division has moved several times since. We are now about three miles from where he fell.

But rest assured Miss Hattie, I will make every effort to find his resting place and will mark it so in case you should ever want to find the spot, there will be something to show you the spot where your brave soldier brother sleeps.

You ask how many battles Will was engaged in. There were eight pitched battles, 1 Wilderness, 2 Spotsylvania, 3 Bethesda Church, 4 near Hanover Church, 5 Cold Harbor, 6 near Petersburg, June 18th, 7 July 30th near Petersburg [The Crater], 8 Weldon R. R. Aug. 19th, besides numerous skirmishes on the picket line. After all he had passed through unharmed, it seemed doubly hard to believe that he could be taken down by a traitor’s bullet. You inquired about D[aniel] H. MePherson. The last I saw of him was the 17th of July. Your brother was helping him to the hospital. He was taken with typhoid fever [and] he died a short time after. I will inform you of whatever I learn concerning Will. Asking you to excuse this, I will close by presenting my best respects to your mother. I remain your friend, — W[illiam] A. Hance

107th Illinois Infantry, Construction of Fort Williams, Glasgow, KY

1863: George Messer to Charlotte (Kelley) Messer

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George Messer, ca. 1860. Enlistment records say he had dark hair and blue eyes.

George Messer of the 107th Illinois Infantry was “a good man and a man that I thought a heap of. He was liked in his company and regiment but he is now gone where there is no trouble, no war, nor no fighting. Tell his wife that he is buried nice and was well cared for whilst sick.” So wrote a fellow soldier following the discovery of George’s death from chronic diarrhea late in December 1863 at the Lamar House Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee.

There is nothing remarkable about George Messer to distinguish him from the thousands of men who answered their country’s call for volunteers to put down the rebellion. He was a simple carpenter from rural Illinois who sought to acquire his share of the American dream — a home to call his own and a loving family to love and support. But his sense of patriotic duty caused him to put those dreams on hold until the rebellion was ended. Unfortunately for George — and the family he left in Illinois — that day did not come before he succumbed to the disease that plagued him throughout most of his term of service. Though he never fired a gun at the enemy, he did not desert nor shirk his duty when he was capable of fulfilling it like several others in his regiment. Though he saw others less qualified than himself rise to positions of leadership in the regiment, he maintained his spirit and did his best to comfort and give hope to those he left behind in Illinois.

George was a devoted husband who wrote faithfully and regularly to his wife during his absence — at least twice a week and sometimes more. His voluminous correspondence provides us with a record of the 107th Illinois Infantry that is rare and reveals the internal machinations and jealousies of the regiment that unit histories do not characteristically reveal. In short, it is a good read.

George Messer (1833-1863) was the son of William H. Messer (1804-1892) and Hannah McClure (1796-1861) of Richland County, Ohio. He had an older sister named Rebecca Messer (1831-1904) who was married to David Bell (1829-1912) in January 1853. Sometime in the late 1850’s, George Messer came to Illinois with his parents and his older sister’s family to settle in Creek Township in Dewitt county. It was here that he met and married Charlotte (“Lottie”) Kelley (1839-1907), the daughter of Alexander Kelley (1813-1882) and Lucinda Anderson (1816-1869). They were married on 27 March 1860 at her father’s resident by John J. McGraw, Justice of the Peace.

George enlisted in Co. F, 107th Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry. The letters span the time from his muster into service in September of 1862 until his death at the end of December, 1863. Several years ago I had the privilege of transcribing and publishing 82 letters of the letters that George wrote to his wife Lottie (Charlotte) during his time in the service along with his nephew, William Wesley McNulty. Recently I was sent scans of two of George’s letters from the Early Illinois Collection of Brad Emalfarb with the express consent for publishing them on Spared & Shared. Both letters were datelined from Glasgow, Kentucky, in April 1863 and neither were in the collection of George’s letters I had previously published. The two letters are significant because they both provide descriptions of the construction of Fort Williams, an earthwork fort constructed on a hill just outside of Glasgow. We learn that much of the early earth moving necessary in the construction of the fort was done by impressed enslaved laborers and only when an attack was anticipated in late April 1863 were the entire 107th Illinois enlisted men assigned duty to finish the works by felling trees and laying the abatis that surrounded the fort.

Rather than attempt to add these two letters to that previous webpage, I have posted them here with an active link. To read George’s other letters, see The Civil War Letters of George Messer, Company F, 107th Illinois Infantry.

George Messer’s original collection of Civil War letters.

Letter 1

107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F
Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky
Thursday, April 2nd 1863

My dear wife,

I seat myself this morning to answer yours of the 28th and 29th which I received yesterday evening and I was glad to hear that you was all well and hearty. I still keep hearty and have a stomach strong enough to eat almost anything.

I am out on picket again today and I am sitting on a big Beach log writing. I intended to write to you today and did not expect to have to go on duty again today but our details are very heavy and has come my turn sooner than I expected and I concluded that I would not be fooled out of writing to you like I was last Sunday so I brought portfolio and writing materials along with me and shall put in all my spare time today in writing.

We commenced yesterday morning to dig rifle pits with 40 Negroes that we pressed in around the country and there is 80 Negroes at work today and there will still be more tomorrow. They are going to press in three hundred and fifty and if they work like they did yesterday, we will soon have the fortifications completed and I for one am not sorry that the Negroes are to do the work for I don’t like to work as well as I used to. Still I am heartier and feel stouter than I was for a long time.

You spoke about wanting to know about my chance of promotion. There is but little chance just now. There may be when Capt. Wismer is exchanged and comes back or is mustered out or resigns. I don’t know what he will do or what will be done with him. David Willis has not got any commission yet and I don’t know whether he will get one or not. Either [David] Willis or [William D.] Catterlin will be the 2nd Lieutenant. I think there is another man that is trying to get the place and I would not be much surprised if he gets it. He is very intimate with the Colonel and has it is generally believed a man at home working for him with the Governor. It is nobody else but P[arker] S. Adams. I don’t want you to say anything about what I have said. All the chance that I have is if Catterlin is promoted for me to get up a petition and I can get all the company to sign it except two or three for Orderly Sergeant. I may not get it them but I shall make the effort at least and I think there be nothing dishonorable about it in that way. Those that I speak about that would not sign my petition are ones that want to be promoted themselves. They have nothing against me and they appear to be my personal friends but appearances are very often deceitful.

I get along very well where I am and I chant make any fuss about it if I don’t get any higher. All that I would desire a higher office for would be for the pecuniary assistance that it might afford and at the same time be capable of doing my duty. I don’t want to get promoted to any place that I could not fulfill for that would be worse than having no office at all.

P[arker] S. Adams is sick and has been for three days. He has something like the flux. He was some better this morning. John Graham is not very well. He has a bad cold and sore throat. He is boarding in our mess now. He wanted to get our nigger to cook for him. He could not do that so he turned his nigger off and has come to board with us. We have the best cook there is in camp and he gets up things in pretty good style the most of the time.

I did not send that other novel by A. C. Graham. He was in a hurry to start so I forgot it until after he was gone. I will come home pretty [soon] and bring it myself and I suppose that will do as well and perhaps better than to send it by anyone. I will close for a few minutes.

John Hunt Morgan. Despite claims such as George recorded, Morgan was never wounded until the day he was shot and killed in September 1864.

I am seated again to write some more. We have just heard that our forces have been giving John [Hunt] Morgan thunder. They have shot three of his fingers off and shot him through the left shoulder. I am sorry that they did not hit him about six inches lower down. At any rate, he won’t be able to trouble us very much for a litle while. I understand that the rebels think it is getting rather got for their safety in Kentucky and are getting out as fast as they can and such a thing might be that we will have to follow them, which we can do if it is necessary but as the Dutchman said, I would rather not if it could be helped for I don’t like them and have no desire to have any friendly intercourse with them such as shooting muskets, pistols, and cannon, although if it is my lot to do so, I will try and give them the best turn in the shop.

It is now about noon and I must stop for a little while and eat some dinner for I am hungry every time at meal time and if you could see me eat, you would think I was hungry or had an awful appetite for meat.

I must try and fill this sheet yet but I don’t know what to write about for I wrote you a tolerable long letter and started it to you by Ben Cross last Tuesday morning. I am not certain whether I will get to come home when those return that have went or not. There are several that are talking about going and they have sent for money to take them home. If they have, I may not get to come. I have sunk away in the bottom of my pocket enough to pay my way home at least and if we should leave this place, it may be that there won’t be any chance for anyone to go very soon again.

Some of our boys went down to town the other evening and Mr. Phares, [our wagon master] as they all call him, was along. They were invited into the parlor to hear some music. They played on the violin awhile and some of our boys asked Mr. [Martin] Phares if he could not play a tune or two. He said he did not know [but] he would try. They handed him the fiddle and asked him to play the Arkansas Traveler and some of our boys told him to play it with the variation. He commenced to play and the Kentuckians all began to look cross-eyed at him. He played that and commenced to play some of his family music. When they heard him through, they all acknowledged that they never had heard such music before. So Mart[in] became quite a noted character among them. They thought that our boys were rather green and they did look sort of shabby with their coarse blue clothes on but they were badly cheated when they thought they were about to sell the soldiers and make fun of them. Mart can act the fool as well as anyone and when he takes the notion, there is not many that can get ahead of him. 1

Wesley [McNulty] is well and hearty. He is on the color guard. He was put there for his nice appearance and keeping his gun in good order. West is like he always was, very particular and brushing up all the time—only when he is not writing letters. He got a letter last night from Miss Williams in Sangamon county with her likeness in it. It is a splendid looking picture too. I think that Tom Edwards had better be careful how he goes into danger for Wesley was telling me that he had undertaken to ride his horse that David Bell had bought for West and the horse had throwed him off and broke two of his fingers. I am sorry that Tomis so unlucky. I would rather you would not sell Birt and if your Father want to work her, let him do so. If you get a chance to sell the cows, do so for as much as you can for as you say, they are getting old and are going down hill every year. And if you can keep Birt’s colt, keep it too for with Birt, it may help to make a team if it ever amounts to anything and it may be old enough to work by the time I can get home to stay. But I hope this war will be over and me at home soner than that and I think I will for the war can’t certainly last for two years and a half yet, although it may.

You must not think that you offend me by writing anything that you want to. I know that you have troubles to contend with as well as anyone else and why should I be offended at you for writing to me who you have a right to counsel as well as me to counsel you for each other’s welfare. My darling, you have my love and whole heart in your keeping and there it shall ever remain.

I shall not write much more today and finish in the morning after I go in off picket for it has got so windy that I can’t hardly write and in the morning I may think of something more to write about for I have about run out for today. So for this evening, my darling, I will close hoping you are all well for tonight. My darling, goodbye — George

Friday morning, April 3rd Dear wife, I have just returned from picket and I shall now try and finish my letter. I received a letter from T. Kelley last night dated the 24th of March. He was well and hearty and he tells me that the Copperheads in Illinois had threatened to tar and feather him if he did not stop recruiting. Now if I know Tom as well as I think I do, they would have had a good time of it if they had undertaken it. He is down on the traitors at home with a vengeance.

I must now close for this time for I want to answer Tom’s letter today and I want to do some washing too for tomorrow I will have to drill and today I get to rest. Write to me soon again and send me yours & Eddie’s likenesses if you can get them taken. I must close and I hope you are all well and hearty. Goodbye. I ever remain your faithful husband, — Geo. Messer

To Lottie Messer

1 Mart Phares was a soldier in the Union army during the war, having enlisted at Clinton, and rendered good service. He has been receiving a pension for disability sustained during the war. He went to Lombard University but did not graduate. He had a strong predilection for music, and early began playing for balls. He made music his profession. He played with so much spirit and with such feeling that his execution proved pleasing and acceptable. He was a good caller, having in his palmy days a good, strong voice and was in great demand. For a generation or more he has been associated with an orchestra, either his own or someone else’s. He was looked up to with affection by the other players here. No man has rendered more or better service to the social world here than has Mart. He has directed some of the most brilliant parties ever held in Galesburg. He has played not only for the old but for the children. The violin was his favorite instrument, and who can tell how much pleasure it has given to others under his willing hand. Mart is dead. His favorite is stilled, no more forever to be caressed by his touch. No more will he be seen directing the movements of the dance his face beaming with pleasure. He was known to more men, women and children then any other man here. All called him Mart. He ministered to the pleasures of others, caring little for his own. He was a simple soul. He bore no ill wills. He had a kind and affectionate word for other musicians. No one enjoyed more than he did the concourse of sweet music. He could be seen at every concert of any note, drinking it all down. He was looked up to as a sort of big brother by the younger. He may not have been distinguished; he may not have performed any great deed that will cause his name to go ringing down the corridors of time; but he made life sweet, enjoyable and tolerable to others. Many great men fail to do that. [Source: Obituary, Clinton Public]

Letter 2

107th Regiment Illinois Volunteers, Co. F
Camp Hobson, Glasgow, Kentucky
Sunday, April 12th 1863

My dear wife,

I seat myself this day at [ ] o’clock to write you a few lines to let you know that I am well and hearty and I hope these few lines may find you all well. Everything is bustle and excitement here now. We are expecting an attack here every day and the whole regiment has turned out to finish up our fort and cut down timber. In two days more we will have our earthworks complete and then we are making an abatis around the outside of the ditch and for fear you won’t know what it is, I will tell you. It is made out of saplings trimmed with the limbs about three feet long and sharped at the points. The trees are placed with the butt towards the ditch and the shgarp points out with dirt throwed in the butt of them to kep them stationery. This is to prevent the Rebels from taking the place by storm. When they come up, they will run against the sharp points of the abatis and give us time to shoot them before they can get through. It is the general opinion of the officer commanding here that we will have to fight them in less than a week and perhaps inside of the next twenty-four hours.

There was a letter intercepted by one of our men from one of the Rebels to his wife in which he said that they would visit Glasgow the 15th of this month for they might as well come here and get shot as stay where they was and starve to death for they had nothing to eat and could get nothing unless they could come into Kentucky to get it. If they come, depend upon it, they will fight with desperation and they will be received with firmness on our part. I expect to get a letter from you this evening and I would wait until tomorrow to send this but the mail may be cut off from us by that time and I want you to know how we are situated here. Still I don’t want to discourage you but you have a right to know the truth, let it be good or bad. I am not alarmed in the least and I don’t want you to be for it may all blow over in a few days and not amount to very much at all.

You must excuse this short letter and poor writing for I have but one hour to write in and then I will have to go to work so I have to write like a horse on a gallop. We commenced to work with the whole regiment yesterday morning and have made considerable show. I have nothing more of importance to write this time and in fact, have not time to write much for my hour is nearly up. I will write to you again in a day or two if there still remains a chance to send letters and if we should have a fight, I will give you the earliest intelligence of the result that I possibly can.

I must now close for today. I send a kiss to you and Eddy. My respects to all. Goodbye. Your ever loving husband, — Geo. Messer

To Lottie Messer

Write often and remember yours, — George

195th Pennsylvania Infantry, Berryville, Virginia

1865: John Myers to his Wife

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The following letter was written by John Myers of Co. G, 195th Pennsylvania Infantry. John enlisted as a private on 18 February 1865 and deserted on 21 November 1865. He mentions Franklin K. Myers (b. 1844) of the same company who also enlisted on the same date and deserted three days before John. I’m not confident but I believe John was from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where many of the men were recruited.

John’ letter was written on stationery with a rate colorized lithographic illustration of the “Camp of the 195th Reg. Pennsylvania Volunteers at Berryville, Va.” Berryville is a few miles east of Winchester in Clarke county, Virginia.

See also the 1865-66 Letters of George W. Fraser who also served in the same company as John Myers. They were published on Spared & Shared in 2018.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Washington
August 18th 1865

My dear wife,

Here I will send you this letter where you can see how we had our camp at Berryville and I will state you how to lay it and you will find my tent. It is the second tent in from the west end in the second street marked with ink and you will find on top of the picture which is the east side and if you lay it down that the end which I have written on is eastward, then it is right.

Further, I want you to come as soon as you possibly can. Start right away when this comes to hand and bring all the money along that [I] have sent you for may you must stay a while with me because if you don’t come soon, then I will desert. And now do so and Franklin Myers wrote home to his wife to come along with you and tell her if she will go along with you then she shall for it is more company to you and don’t forget and come as soon as you possibly can for I wouldn’t like if you would come and we would have left so that you wouldn’t met me here.

Just inquire for G. Street Wharf. I think William Mul can find the place so I must close. I am in a great hurry so that letter will go off yet.

— John Myers

Don’t forget and do so.

Lincoln Assassination

1865: Isaac Smith to Catherine Smith

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The following letter, authored in late April 1865 by a Union soldier encamped near Washington, reflects his anticipation of soon mustering out of the army. He identified himself as “Isack Smith” and directed the correspondence to his wife, Catherine, while also referring to his unnamed “little boy.” Additionally, he acknowledged having received communication from “Peter Larkin’s wife,” though it remains unclear whether the Larkins resided in proximity to the Smiths. Regrettably, due to the prevalence of these common names and a lack of further identifying details, I was unable to ascertain Isaac’s identity. Nevertheless, I have transcribed the letter, as it articulates compelling sentiments regarding the reactions to the news of President Lincoln’s assassination.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp near Washington City
April 30th 1865

Dear Wife,

I have a few leisure moments so I thought I would pen a few lines to you. In regards to the good news—Oh how glorious that, and I expect to see you all before long. They all think that we will be discharged very soon. I hope we will. That is my wish. I don’t think that I could make a better one.

I answered your last letter. Tell the little boy that his father will soon be home. I received a letter from Peter Larkin’s wife the other day. They were all well. Her proposal was to me that I was glad that the President was dead but that is not so. I am sorry for him. It is bad but it can’t be helped now for it is too late. We lost a Father when we lost Abraham Lincoln.

We are about 5 miles from the City of Washington. I haven’t one thing more to write. All the news I can give you is this—you can look for me home before long. Give a kiss for me to the little boy. Here is one for yourself. This is from your affectionate husband, — Isack Smith

To Mrs. Catharine Smith

Here is a Soldier’s Dream [The Soldier’s Dream & The Soldier’s Tear lyrics]

1865 Peace Negotiations

1865: Unknown author—“The Love of Home”

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The following letter is dated but unsigned. We only know that the author served in the extensive Army of the James. Based on the evidence present, it is reasonable to deduce that he was likely an officer, as he exhibits a level of education indicative of such a rank. The quality of the pen and writing paper utilized, combined with the evident time taken to compose the letter, further supports this assumption. Moreover, the neatness of the writing suggests that the author possessed a writing desk or table suitable for such tasks and these were generally only carried by officers.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Army of the James
City Point
February 1865

Mother, no word in our language has so deep hold on the heart strings of men as the simple term, Mother, and although we often conduct ourselves in such a manner that we ought not to be allowed to have any mother, yet it is a cruel wrench that can tear her image from our souls, although we may be sin-steeped until our moral nature has lost all traces of the image of Him in whom we are created, yet on memory’s map will be left some of the tracings of a mother’s influence.

I would be most happy this Sabbath morning if permitted to spend it in the society of her who watched over my infancy and has been my best adviser all through life’s journey. Many has been the rock that I have dashed against driving along with passion at the helm, which if I had been content to let mother’s hand guide the bark, I would have escaped. Now, when it is too late, we think of those things. How vast is the number of human wrecks that lie scattered along life’s shore that have been lost for the simple reason that they would not let her, who knew their natures better than they did themselves, guide them, lay miserable failures along the road which, if mother had been minded, might have reached the haven, richly laden with honor and the respect of their fellows with the pleasant consciousness of duty fulfilled, usefulness and self respect.

But moralizing cannot heal the past although I have too often rejected your counsel and am morally wrecked in consequence. Yet you will believe me when saying that there is nothing I can think of would give greater pleasure than to be at your side today and by any means save you from one pang of pain and my hearts desire, prayer, is that I may once more be permitted to see your face in peace and the blessings of peace, felt and appreciated all over our afflicted country.

A transient gleam of hope has for the few days past illuminated our war clouded skies. Men from Washington have visited Richmond. Vice President Stephens of the Bogus Confederacy left City Point for Fortress Monroe on Wednesday to meet Father Abraham at that place to talk the matter over, to see if there is not some way for bringing Peace once more to our land. Mother, the fact of the case is that Peace on any fair terms will be received by the soldiers of either side with transports of joy and thanksgiving. The flag of truce arrived in front of our lines in front of the City of Petersburg where there has not been scarcely a moment for the past six months when shot, shell, and Minié ball has not been flying at the former on either side. Yet the flag of truce was hailed with perfect transport of joy by the soldiers of both armies. The thought that Peace once more would come, then “Home Sweet Home” a happy reunion with the loved ones there so galvanized the boys with delight that shouts of joy rang along the lines, friend and foe joining in the chorus in a yell that would have drowned the thunders of fort.

Well, if she had been playing at the time, it proves that there is one chord that vibrates alike in the Northern and Southern heart and that is the love of home.

8th Maine Infantry, Port Royal Expedition

1861: Richard Fletcher Taft to Ephraim Wales Taft

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I could not find an image of Fletcher in uniform but here is one of Sgt. James Henry Hobbs of Co. H, 8th Maine Infantry. (Andrew Garton Collection)

The following letter was written by Sgt. Richard “Fletcher” Taft (1840-1862) while serving in Co. G, 8th Maine Infantry. Fletcher enlisted at Gouldsboro, Hancock county, Maine, on 7 September 1861 and penned this letter shortly after boarding the steamboat Daniel Webster that would take the regiment from Annapolis to “somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough.” Though he did not yet know it, the regiment was to take part in the Port Royal Expedition. Regrettably, it would be his last ocean transport. He died of typhoid fever on Daufuskie Island on 30 March 1862. He lies buried in a soldier’s grave at the Beaufort National Cemetery, marker 1605.

Fletcher wrote this letter to his parents, Ephraim Wales Taft (1795-1873) and Maria B. Cobb (1813-1885).

For Spared & Shared followers interested in reading more great letters by members of the 8th Maine Infantry, check out those written by Augustus Alonzo Hoit who served as an officer in the same company as Fletcher and was also from Gouldsboro. See: The Smoke of my Rifle transcribed and published by Spared & Shared in 2015.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Annapolis [Maryland]
October 19th 1861

Dear Mother,

I thought I would write you a few lines to let you know that we are on board a steamboat and will probably sail south in a day or two. We had orders yesterday noon to pack our knapsacks and be ready to march at a minute’s warning. We marched on down to the Navy Yard and went on board a boat which carried us on board this ship and suppose we shall be landed somewhere south of here but don’t know how far but we shall know when we get there and that is soon enough. I can’t write much now for I am Sergeant of the Guard today and I am on deck and it almost rains so must be short but thought I would write a word or two to let you know where I was for you may not get another letter from me for some time but will write again the first chance.

I got a letter from Maria last night. Was glad to hear you were all well. Maria wrote that some of our company complain of not getting enough to eat. I don’t think I have lost much flesh and as long as I can hold my own, will not say a word. I ain’t afraid of starving. I received a letter from Nat Tyler the other day [but] have not had time to answer it yet. George is well and gets along well. You wrote he said he was coming home but guess he will hardly get there this winter.

I must now close this as I have not time to write more. Give love to all and keep a large share for yourself. From your son, — Fletcher

When you write, direct to Washington and I shall get them from there if anywhere.

97th Pennsylvania Infantry, North Edisto Island

1862: John L. Hosmer to Friend Susie

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The following letter was written by John L. Hosmer (1837-1895) from North Edisto Island, South Carolina, in May 1862 while serving in the 97th Pennsylvania Infantry. He entered the war on 10 October 1861 at West Chester, Pennsylvania, as a private in Co. H but was later made a musician in the regimental band. He was discharged from the regiment on 31 August 1862, having served only 10.5 months, when the War Department ordered the discharge of all Regimental Bands.

 In May 1862, Union forces on the island came from 13 units: First Massachusetts Cavalry, Third Rhode Island Infantry, Captain Hamilton’s Battery of Artillery, Third New Hampshire Infantry, 45th Pennsylvania Infantry, 55th Pennsylvania Infantry, 76th Pennsylvania Infantry, 97th Pennsylvania Infantry, 6th Connecticut Infantry, 7th Connecticut Infantry, 46th New York Infantry, 47th New York Infantry, and Colonel Small’s Engineers. The 55th Pennsylvania was the only regiment to remain when the troops disembarked on June 2 on Hunter’s campaign to attack Charleston which failed when the Confederate won a victory in the Battle of Secessionville on nearby James Island on June 16.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

97th Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers
Camp North Edisto, [South Carolina]
May 4, 1862

Dear Susie,

Your most welcome letter was received last night and I hasten to answer it. I am glad to hear that you are well, and I hope you may enjoy the same blessing for a long time to come. I am very well at present and I stand the hardships of a soldier’s life better than I expected to. We live first rate since we have been here on this island. There are plenty of blackberries, clams, oysters, and sweet potatoes. I have blackberry sauce every meal. You ought to see us, each one with his tin cup a stewing his own cup of berries and we make very good sauce too, if we only had a little more sugar to put in it.

It is very warm down here in the middle of the days, but it is right pleasant in the morning and evening. I do not know how we will stand it through the summer for it will get very hot about July and August, but we will have to worry through somehow or other.

There is one of the prettiest places here that I ever saw. I wish you were here to wander with me through the splendid garden and handsome grove of the Seabrook mansion. The garden is filled with the most beautiful flowers of all kinds. Enclosed you will find one of the small roses which I pulled from a bush in the garden. Susie, wish I could send you a bouquet from this beautiful garden. The man that owns it is in the Rebel army. What a pity it is to have to leave such a place. That is the fruits of being a rebel.

Union troops occupying the grounds of John Seabrook’s plantation on Edisto Island.

Susie, you spoke of me leaving your likeness in the deep blue sea. If it had been the original that fell in, I would have went to the bottom with you.

We have not had any fighting to do yet, but I do not [know] how soon we may have some to do. Pickets were fired on last night but no one was hurt. Hillary is well at present and sends his love to you.

Well I must cut this short as it is time to play Tattoo. Give my best respects to all. Susie, I received a letter [from] Hannum Baldwin about two weeks ago, and one from Morris about four weeks ago. Now Susie, please write to me again soon and oblige yours ever, — J. L. Hosmer

44th Indiana Infantry, Battle of Stones River

1863: Samuel Andrew Baker to Nancy E. Baker

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I could not find an image of Samuel but here is one of David E. Brallier (1841-1928) of Kosciusko county, Indiana. He served in Co. B, 44th Indiana Infantry (sometimes under name Brawlier). He enlisted on 22 November 1861 and mustered out at Chattanooga on 14 September 1865. (Ancestry.com)

This letter was written by Samuel Andrew Baker (1844-1865) while serving as a private in Co. E, 44th Indiana Infantry. He enlisted in October 1861 when he was 18 years old. At his enlistment, he was described as a 5’5″ tall, blue-eyed, blond-haired carpenter. He was the son of Joseph W. and Hulday (Convers) Baker of Columbia City, Whitley county, Indiana. Columbia City is about 20 miles WNW of Fort Wayne, Indiana.

He was promoted to a corporal in December 1864 but on 30 January 1865, he was killed in an accident when the train car he was riding in on the way to Athens, Alabama, from Nashville, ran off the track and was smashed by another car. Samuel was the only one killed though five others were wounded. This was on the Knoxville & Chattanooga Railroad near Cleveland, Tennessee. [Source: The Iron Men of Indiana’s 44th Regiment by Margaret Hobson]

Samuel wrote the letter to his older sister, Nancy E. Baker (b. 1842), a school teacher in Columbia City.

Samuel’s Find-A-Grave includes a letter by Baker written from McMinnville, TN, on 26 July 1863. This letter is archived in the Special Collection (online) at the University of Tennessee along with another one written on 28 January 1862 from South Carrollton, Kentucky.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp 44th Indiana Volunteers
Near Murfreesboro, Tennessee
January 21st 1863

Dear Sister,

I take the present opportunity of writing you a few lines to let you know that I am well hoping the same to you. It has been stormy and wet for a bout two weeks and it is drizzling today. It has been pretty cold a few days. We have plenty to eat now-a-days such as fresh meat. Forage trains go out for forage for the teams and when they go out a good many of the boys go along and after they get outside of the pickets, they go where they please. And when they see a hog or a sheep, they shoot it and skin it and bring it into camp. For my part, I have not gone out yet but I expect I will go out some of these days. I had calculated going out today but there is no train going out today.

I thought I would sit down and write you a letter. I expect that you will have some trouble reading this letter for the ink is poor, being made out of gunpowder. And I expect it will be very apt to fade. But it is the best I can do and if you cannot read it, you will have to let it go without reading, I suppose.

It is awful muddy now in the fields and on the commons and byroads, but the turnpike roads are perfectly solid. The other day four or five of the boys went and got some brick and we have built a fireplace in the tent and it keeps the tent pretty warm.

There was 55 men wounded in our regiment and eight killed and several missing. There was but four wounded in our company and one missing and has not been seen or heard of since Wednesday, the 31st of December. It is supposed that he was taken prisoner. We had watch on New Year’s watching the graybacks across a cornfield about a quarter of a mile across. But that was not quite as pleasant as watching in the Methodist church in C. C. [Columbia City]. But enough of that. It does no good talking about old times. I expect that I will have to stay my three years out anyway. And about that time, you may look for me to be at home. But I can think of no more to write to you that would be interesting for you to read. I will close remaining your affectionate brother, — Samuel A. Baker

P. S. for fear that you cannot make out the date, I will put it here. It is January the 21st, 1863

Write as soon as you get this.

118th Pennsylvania Infantry

1863: William Parker Zane to Mary (Ault) Zane

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William Parker Zane just before entering the war. (Ancestry.com)

This letter was written by 37 year-old William Parker Zane (1826-1864) of Co. E, 118th Pennsylvania Infantry. This regiment was sometimes referred to as the “Corn Exchange Regiment” because the Philadelphia Corn Exchange Association furnished the bounty money and funds needed to raise the regiment. He wrote the letter to his German-born wife, Mary (Ault) Zane (1828-1910) and his two young girls—Virginia Georgiana Zane (1858-1933) and Kate Ambler Zane (1862-1957).

William enlisted on 11 August 1862 and was with his regiment until captured by the Rebels on 2 June 1864 during the Battle of Cold Harbor. He was taken to Andersonville Prison in Sumter county, Georgia, where he died of malnutrition (“scorbutus”) on 22 October 1864 after nearly five months imprisonment.

William was the son of Nathan Shenton Zane (1795-1855) and Hannah M. Stancliff (1791-1861) of Philadelphia.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Camp Warrenton
118th Regt. P. V., Co. E,
August 1, 1863

My dear wife,

I take the opportunity of writing a few lines to let you know how I am a getting along. I [am] well at present, hoping that these few lines will find you and the children all well. I received your letter on the 29th of July and was very glad to hear from you. I have had some hard marching for the last six months past and seen some hard fighting but as for myself, I got through clear without the first scare. We come very near getting into a fight at the Manassas Junction a few days ago but the rebs wouldn’t stand their ground. As soon as our men made a charge on them, they ran. The rebs is very good on a fire but when it comes to charging bayonets, they wil run. They won’t stand charging as well as our men will. But I don’t think we will have much more fighting—not for a month or so yet anyhow. Not till we get recruited up a little.

There is some of our men gone to Philadelphia to bring down some of them drafted men to fill up our regiment for it is very small at present. We expect to move from where we are at present but we shan’t move far. We expect to lay in camp till the conscripts come down.

I would be very glad to come home to see you all once more if I could get the chance but I would like to see the war ended before I come home so that I can stay for we are all very tired of Old Virginia. But as tired as we all are of it, we all feel very anxious of having the war brought to a close before we leave the State of Virginia so that we can go home and say that we have a better show at this present time of ending the war than ever we had because we never met with such good success since the war first started as we have since General Lee went into Pennsylvania. They have been coming over into our lines by hundreds and giving themselves up.

You said in your letter that you wanted to know whether I sent you a half a sheet of paper in my letter or not. I didn’t send you but a half a sheet because paper was very scarce where I was and I sent you a letter with ten dollars in that was only a half a sheet.

I must bring my letter to a close for it is time for me to get ready for dress parade. No more at present. I send my love to you and the children and tell the children that they must be good girls and mind what they are told. Give my best respects to Benjamin Ambler and family and all enquiring friends, if I have got any. Write soon and tell me whether you got the ten dollars I sent you. No more at present. I still remain your most affectionate husband, — William P. Zane

Antebellum New York

1857: Arthur Gilman to Winthrop Sargent Gilman, Jr.

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The following letter was written in January 1857 by Arthur Gilman (1837-1909), the son of Winthrop Sargent Gilman, Sr. (1808-1884) and Abia Swift Lippincott (1817-1902). He wrote the letter to his younger brother Winthrop (“Wint”) Sargent Gilman, Jr. (1839-1923) attending Williams College in Massachusetts.

Arthur’s father was a businessman who had a wholesale business in Alton, Illinois, and St. Louis, Missouri, before settling in New York City as an agent of the St. Louis firm in 1848. In 1860 he opened a banking house known as Gilman, Son, & Co. Arthur worked for his father in the bank for a while and then devoted his life to the education of women through the Harvard courses (the “Society for the Collegiate Instruction of Women”). In 1886, he established a school for girls which he called the Cambridge School but it was more generally known by his name.

Arthur’s letter recounts a day-long journey from New York City to Newburgh, a distance of 60 miles up the Hudson River on a frigid day in January 1857. He embarked on a river steamer to Fishkill Landing and subsequently traversed the ice on a heavily laden sleigh, a choice he later deemed unwise.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

New York [City]
January 12, 1857

Dear Brother Wint,

Your letter was received today while I was not in town, for you must know that when father looked into his letters this morning, he found that it would be necessary to send a special messenger to Newburgh. Under the circumstances, I, of course, was the most available person and accordingly I left the office soon after ten on a…

Pilgrimage to Newburgh.

Be it known to you, dear sir, that Newburgh is a city situated upon the western bank of that river which ever since its discovery by the late lamented Sir Hendrick Hudson has borne his name. Just where the Highlands commence and opposite the Fishkill Landing, which is distant 60 miles from the Metropolis, and presenting a beautiful appearance by reason of its being built upon a declivity, lies the City of Newburgh, before mentioned.

Had it been summer and had the summer sun shed down its life-giving and ice-melting rays, my pilgrimage would have been merely an ordinary trip and totally unworthy of being brought to your notice. Little matters it to us what might have been; we are dealing with facts. It was winter. Old Boreas reigned triumphant on the glorious Hudson as will as in the more classic, put perhaps not more romantic shades of Greylocke.

But to descend to soberalities, New York harbor was filled with ice and your most unworthy pilgrim debated in his mind whether or not he would have the honor and pleasure of navigating the noble river above referred to in the manner in which the immortal Father of his Country is supposed to have navigated the Delaware, without any [Emanuel] Leutze to spread the scene upon canvas.

At the appointed hour the vehicle in which my pilgrimage was to be commenced was in motion. How unconscious were my fellow passengers that so great a personage as your humble servant was in their midst. How little did the pedlar who sat by my side and who was bound for Saugerties,—how little did he think when he asked me the time that the fact would be recorded in history! As the distance became greater and greater to this city, I could notice that the sway of Old Boreas was less and less disputed and the mighty river was at last completely reduced to his dominion and submitted, tho’ not without occassional pantings for freedom (through frequent air holes) that the chains might be fastened which bound it to the shore.

“Peekskill! Five minutes for refreshments!” and as pilgrims even cannot derive sufficient nutriment from the circumambient air, six of the largest copper coins in use were here disbursed and thereby my corporeal ponderosity was rendered greater and my pocket suffered a collapse.

“Ding dong,” off go us. A few moments more and we are unloaded at Fishkill. “Take you over to Newburgh? Just get into that sleigh!” Sleigh indeed, and “how shall we cross the river?” “On the ice.” Nervous lady hopes they won’t load too heavy. She is assured they won’t. And neither did they, unless nine persons and a trunk in a one horse sleigh may be called too many.

We are on the ice. Crack goes the whip and crack! crack! goes the ice! at the same time. “We are approaching a dangerous place,” remarks one on which the four ladies are in fits. “Nothing to fear,” says the driver and they are quiet. Nevertheless, “crack, crack” goes the ice and we are there. Yes, we have accomplished the feat. A mile of ice is in our rear and we are safe! I hurried onto terra firma determined on my return to use those means of conveyance with which I was endowed by nature in preference to another sleigh ride.

My business over, I trotted back [over the ice] with my arms doubled up after the Greek fashion. Safe on the right side, I took some oysters! I came home. I am here. I write to Whit. I go to bed. Good night!

Affectionately, — Arthur Gilman

P. S. January 13th. Alice had a comfortable night. Affectionately, — Arthur.